On the inside I wilt. I can’t give the ring to her. She’ll never agree to my proposal now. Not when she has something bigger and better ahead of her and my whole body begins aching.
Tsarina lets out a snigger. “Um hello...earth to Balthazar.” She knocks on my head to see if I’m still there and I gently clasp her wrists in my hands. She squirms, seemingly surprised and I swallow.
“Beauty...,” I begin and she nods her head in encouragement. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Go for it.”
Licking my lips, I muster the courage but there’s not much to begin with, and I blurt, “I love you, Tsarina.” I softly squeeze her hands in my mine, taking in every curve and angle of her face because it brings me joy. “I love you with all my heart.”
Her eyes widen. A tint forms on her cheeks. “Oh,” she laughs a little, “thank you so much.”
Swaying, I look into her eyes as my yearning for her grows. “Don’t you understand?” I say with long suffering affection. “I loveyou.”
“Balthazar...,” she murmurs, squirming out of my grip and I struggle to clasp her again. “You’re being kind but I really have to go now or I’ll miss my flight.”
She’s not supposed to say that. She’s supposed to throw her arms around me and declare her undying adoration, just like I’m doing.
“B...but I love you,” I stutter, stumbling over my words just as much as I stumble over my feet as I chase after her. “I love you, Tsarina,” I gasp in her face. “I love you.”
Throwing me a distressed glance, she nods and swallows. “I get that.” Bending forward she gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and the kiss is so flimsy I barely feel it. “We’ll keep in touch. Don’t be a stranger...”
“I love you,” I pant after her but she doesn’t hear me, busy running down the trail that leads to the village. “I love you. I love you...”
The wind drowns out my words and my fists clench. She just left me. As if I’m nothing to her. As if she couldn’t care less about my devotion. Gritting my teeth, I fall to my knees as unimaginable pain cuts in me. Fisting the snow, I drag it down my face, before letting out a wild roar that makes the birds fly out of the trees and a wolf howls in the distance.
Shuddering, I lay down in a fetal position and the birches spin over my head like a violent circus. Digging my fingers into the snow, I peel my lip over my teeth when the frost climbs up my fingers and seeps into my heart.
I feel it becoming covered in ice, becoming cruel, becoming impenetrable and deep down I know that Beastie is no more. He’s gone. Tsarina killed him.
Now there’s just a beast.
CHAPTER ONE
Tsarina-Ten years later
Paying the cabbie, I get out of the car and look up at the cliff as sentimental memories wash over me. How long has it been since I’ve been here? Goodness, I can barely remember but it feels like it’s been ages.
I was born and raised in Karthusia, a tiny country in the farthest east of Europe. This small town was all I knew, until I moved to the states to live with my dad. He welcomed me with open arms and being half-American, I had an easy time fitting in and things were pretty great. Making friends wasn’t difficult, though learning to speak the language without an accent was slightly more challenging but watching a ton of rom-coms helped as did reading romance novels.
Life in the states was so good, that Karthusia eventually became a distant memory. During the first years, I looked back a lot, missing my old house and friends, wanting to go back and visit but then life caught up with me and I never got on that plane.
Until now.
Karthusian land is beneath my thigh high boots and a grin crosses my face as I inhale. I’ve missed this forsaken place, its seclusion, its rejection of the modern world, its wide mountains and harsh terrains. Heck, I even miss its hostile nature and I struggle against the wind as I make my way up the cliff.
All these years and they still haven’t bothered to build a proper trail... Standing in front of the stone walls that surround our village, I take a deep breath before walking through the arched entrance and an excited thrill moves through me.
There seems to be a market today. The village center is crawling with people, laughing at each other’s jokes and shouting at each other’s wrongdoings. Cats and dogs run around freely, chased by little children and there’s a smell of homemade pastries and candles in the air.
I shudder and softly close my eyes.
Home. I’m home.
My little moment is interrupted by a boy, running into me and he scowls at me when he has to peel his red lollipop off my slacks. “Excuse you.” I snigger. He sticks his tongue out before running away and I cross my arms, wondering where to go next. I haven’t booked a hotel but I don’t need to. It’s not like this place is the number one tourist spot.
Though it is pretty different from what it was before I left. Then there were never this many people out. Most would just sit at home, quietly drinking their teas in the evening and just as quietly go to their jobs in the morning. The guerilla would rule this village. They’d hide out in the mountains and we all dreaded whenever they showed up in the village, demanding to be served food and drink.
Now the guerilla’s nowhere to be seen and I squint at the mountains, but don’t see any black clad males with machine guns walking around. Hm...that’s interesting. With a small smile on my face, I walk around, dragging my tiny suitcase behind because I didn’t bring much and watch with interest what the market has to offer.